


The Notorious Night Concerts of Sherlock Holmes

by keerawa



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: 221B Ficlet, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2016-07-28
Packaged: 2018-07-27 09:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7613563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keerawa/pseuds/keerawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the hottest nights of the year, Londoners from guttersnipes to grumbling shop-keepers and the pretty ladies in their carriages know that the violin can be heard on Baker Street until the weather turns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Notorious Night Concerts of Sherlock Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/profile)[watsons_woes](http://watsons-woes.livejournal.com/) JWP 2016 Musical Prompt #28: "In July the sun is hot; is it shining? No it's not." Unbeta'd, so please feel free to point out any errors.

A few minutes past nine, Watson retired to his room for the night. Holmes drank a tall glass of water, stripped off his jacket (a most welcome release from the dry July heat), removed his cuff links, and rolled up his sleeves.

He took his Stradivarius from its case with due reverence and prepared it whilst planning the night's program. A gentle warm-up, followed by Mendelssohn – Watson's favorite composer. Dvorak, Bruch, and Beethoven; no concert would be complete without him. Then something soothing - the third movement of Bach’s Sonata No. 2. Having lulled his audience, Holmes would indulge in one of his own, more daring compositions. His neighbors would be too long a-bed at that point for anything more violent than muttering curses at him.

He would finish with some easier pieces, to spare his wrists and while away the hours until the fog rolled up from the Thames. Then he would find his own way to bed.

Hot, dry air was a boon for Watson's physical wounds, but it tormented his dreams with the horrors of Maiwand. With the damp, sulfurous reek of London fog in his nose, Watson would sleep safe.

Holmes stepped to the window, nodded to the odd assortment of Londoners both high and low who had gathered to hear him play, and picked up his bow.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] The Notorious Night Concerts of Sherlock Holmes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13014270) by [KeeperofSeeds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KeeperofSeeds/pseuds/KeeperofSeeds)




End file.
